


The Visitor

by Heiri_XQR (XQR)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Self-cest, horcrux love, one-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-20
Updated: 2011-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 03:02:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XQR/pseuds/Heiri_XQR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The diary has been here for a long time. Then there's someone...it's the locket. Why is he here? Can he stop the pain? DiaryxLocket</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a piece of art by Flayu of DeviantArt. It can be found at this link: flayu.deviantart.com/art/after-the-destruction-192774798?offset=50

He did not know how long he had spent lying there. All he knew was that he had woken up in this bright clean place and, noticing his wounded abdomen, he had wished for a bed to lie on and one had appeared. Since that time he had merely laid, alone and eternally bleeding. His last memory prior to waking up was of Harry Potter. Yes, that was it – Potter was stabbing the diary with a basilisk fang when he felt pain and everything went black. Well, that explained the wound, but not why he was wherever he was and why he had been there for so long.

It was a long time before something caught Riddle’s attention. But had it been long? Time did not seem to flow normally here; he did not know if he had been there for hours, days or possibly years. A noise shattered the long unbroken silence. In the distance there was a figure, it was too far to distinguish it, although it was approaching at a fast walking pace. Riddle suddenly felt the need to be clothed. He had awoken naked however long ago that was, but being alone he paid no attention to whether he was covered up. That was another weird thing about this place – the temperature was perfect whether he was under the covers of the bed or not.

Tom Riddle looked down to see that he was now robed in his old school clothes. When he looked up the figure stood feet away, leaning against a pillar – when did the pillar get here? Riddle noticed the dark clothes standing out against the brilliance of the surroundings and then looked up into his own face, only this face was a few years older than he was.

  “How’s it going, my dear diary?” the other Riddle asked.

Riddle noticed the golden locket around his visitor’s neck and noted that it was in perfect condition. “How is it you are here?”

The locket-Riddle smiled. “We have returned.”

  “Then where are the others?”

  “They remain untouched, safe and where they were left.” Diary-Riddle made to speak, but Locket-Riddle continued. “Since I was removed from the cave I have able to escape the confines of the locket.” He fondled the artefact around his neck. “But there was no reason for me to do so until now.” He strode forward and sat on the end of the bed. “The truth about your…state…was forced out of Lucius and I came to investigate.”

  “But – how did -?” Diary-Riddle began, but the locket hushed him.

  “Perhaps it has been too long for you… Do you not remember our emotions, our anger?”

Riddle contemplated and remembered some of the outbursts, but decade old memories could not remind him of what it was like to feel… He didn’t feel anything anymore apart from his wound.

His locket self understood. “I knew that something was wrong. Something to do with one of us, our horcruxes… I’d never felt anger like that before. So, I found you…me, lying here bleeding.”

The locket placed a hand gently on his wound, covering it completely. The diary watched, fascinated as the other closed his eyes with a look of concentration on his face. There was a warm feeling where he was pierced and a grunt from the locket. Without breaking the concentration, the flow of magic, the locket brushed his lips against the diary’s, looking for an opening. The Diary-Riddle gladly let himself in and enjoyed the brief moment of contact before the kiss was broken and the locket whispered in his ear, “you’re broken.”

The locket put some distance between them, but close enough for the diary to see the flecks of red in the other’s eyes.

  “’How could I have been so careless,’ right?” Locket Riddle smirked as he said it.

  “It was Potter and that basilisk fang. But he should have died too – he did right?”

The smirk disappeared from the other’s face. “He lives on. And you died after giving him the tools to kill you.”

Anger rose up in the diary. “The basilisk was meant to kill him first! Dumbledore and his bloody phoenix! And even then…he had that sword – what are you smiling at?!”

  “Me. You.” His eyes flicked down quickly. “That.”

Diary Riddle flushed red. It wasn’t his fault. He had no idea what had brought it on.

Why had he remained in such close proximity? If he’d moved a bit further away no one would have noticed.

The locket ran a hand down his younger self’s body from his chest to his inner thigh, making sure to lightly brush the diary’s erection.

Why make it worse? He just…he was glad that he was the only one here to see this. Yet it was still annoying to be with himself with this feeling that he didn’t really know the man in front of him. There was only a few years between them, but it seemed to make a lot of difference at this moment.  

  “Funny what a kiss can do,” the locket mused. “What is it about yourself that turns you on? Am I as handsome as you’d hoped?” He undid another shirt button to expose his pale, but attractive chest some more.

  “I think it’s more to do with the power you’re exuding,” the diary confessed. He couldn’t hide things from himself anyway. “Being alive, knowing what I can no longer find out. Immortal for now.”

  “So I embody what we desire and lust for? That makes sense.” The locket ran a finger along the diary’s jaw. “There’s more. Our young eyes don’t manage to conceal as much as we believed.”

The diary took the locket’s hand from his face and placed a kiss upon it. “Stay with me. It’s painless under your touch.” He moved the hand to the wound which was not bleeding anymore.

  “That’s only because we’re more complete together than we ever will be, but I must leave.” He watched the diary’s face fall. “But not just yet.”

The locket placed a kiss on the wound and the blood around it and on the sheets disappeared. Then their lips were locked once more with the diary being needier and running his hands across the other’s body. When they at last came up for air – he still needed air when he was dead? – the locket found that the diary had been working away at his buttons and that his jacket was now on the floor.

  “Look who’s hot for himself now,” the diary noted.

  “You’re – I’m the only one I ever loved in any way. So let’s make the most of this rare opportunity. I don’t think it’d be the same with the latest horcrux; at least you’re still the handsome boy everyone remembers.”

The diary wondered what their new body looked like and absently ran a hand through the locket’s dark locks.

  “Snake-like. And hairless,” was the answer.

That prompt was all it took for the diary to see what they had become. Not a beauty, but alive at least. The locket smiled at the curious look on the younger’s face and gently began to unbutton his torn shirt and grey trousers. A light touch of flesh brought the diary’s mind back to…wherever he was. Then he was being pumped and it felt glorious after all the time he had spent locked away in his container’s pages.

  “How long…have I been…here?” It was a question that he’d wanted to ask for so long, but it came out in between gasps.

  “You were destroyed 2 years ago.”

2 years…so he really _had_ been here for as long as it felt. With that out of the way, he moved to begin pumping the locket and for a minute they both gasped and moaned under the touch of the other. Then the locket released his hold and his hands travelled elsewhere. The diary felt a hand on his arse, then a finger looking for his entrance – Diary-Riddle stopped everything and pushed the locket from him.

  “And what makes you think that would work?”

Locket Riddle smirked. “I never expected it to. After all, I know you and you know me. And we know we’d never let anyone else in. To pass that power to someone else is not acceptable. But curiosity killed the cat; I had to know if I’d let myself in.”

The diary laughed. “I’m so charismatic. Why, after that speech I’d be tempted to let you take me. Even in death I will not forget who I am. Or rather, was.”

  “Well said.” The locket moved down the diary’s body, planting kisses along the way. Then he took the other’s member in his mouth and began to work his magic using his tongue.

Diary Riddle was now finding it hard to think straight. It was enough to be engulfed by someone you adored and given a good blow job, but this was something else. To be able to relax so completely (it wasn’t like anyone would ever find out about this) and to be sucked off by yourself was on another level. The other Riddle knew exactly how to pleasure himself and which spots to linger on to get the most pleasure, he needed no direction to make the diary moan and yell his name – their name?

  “Volde…mort!” the diary gasped. That name was the most alluring and represented his desires most without being the close childhood name that ‘Tom Riddle’ was.

The locket felt the hands tangled in his hair clench just before the diary came in his mouth. Of course he knew how he tasted, but this was sweeter than he remembered…maybe it had been too long, or having himself here with him made all the difference.

Diary Riddle panted and then found lips on his again, making it harder to breath than it already was. The locket took the chance to pump himself a few more times before they broke, brown eyes staring into identical ones, save the red flecks. Then Locket-Riddle moved so that he leant over the diary, grabbing onto the bed’s headboard. The diary manipulated the other until the perfect position was found and returned the favour, sucking and adding little tongue flicks until the locket was bucking his hips and mouth fucking the diary. To the diary’s surprise he enjoyed this part almost as much as being on the receiving end. It was like he was doing a great service to himself, to the living parts. It felt wonderful – perhaps this was the feelings that some Death Eaters got when they succeeded in a mission he’d given them? The feeling of liquid filling his mouth broke his train of thought and he swallowed everything that had dripped from Locket-Riddle.

The locket lay down next to him and began to twist the diary’s dark locks around his fingers. “I’ve never felt so good,” he stated.

The diary nodded, a finger tracing the locket’s chest. “How long will I remain here?”

  “I don’t know. No one does.” He began to button up his shirt, excluding the diary’s finger. “I guess when each of us is destroyed and we make up a whole again. But even that’s not certain.” He tucked his shirt roughly into his trousers. “I don’t think you’ll have to wait long – to be joined at least. After all, I’m already in the open. It’s only a matter of time before someone does something.”

  “Will you come and find me?” the diary asked as the locket went to get up from the bed.

 The locket looked into dark eyes, searching for a hint of fear. “Naturally. But by then I shall be broken too and of no help to you.”

  “It’s not that…I’m lonely and –“

The locket laughed. “We are never lonely or has the time in this place made you forget yourself?”

The diary face suddenly seemed made of stone and his voice was cold as he said, “and bored. This place is a waste or my time.”

  “ _That’s better,_ ” the locket said in parseltongue, reminding the diary of his origins. Locket-Riddle pulled on his jacket and bent down to give the diary one last kiss. It was brief with the diary showing no need or emotion as he had done previously.

  “One more question – where are we?” Diary-Riddle asked.

The locket surveyed the area. “I believe it is King’s Cross. And one day our train will pull in, but pray that that day is far in the future for we have only just regained a body of our own.” There was a short pause. “Well, goodbye, my dearest diary –“

  “I regret it,” the diary said, cutting across the locket.

  “Regret what?”

The diary looked down at himself, noticing that with the locket now standing by the pillar his wound had begun to bleed freely again. “Horcruxes. I wish I’d never made them. I know the others don’t. You probably don’t. But once you’ve spent time here, in limbo, in pain, alone and feeling empty all the time, you will understand. I’m not alive, but not fully dead either. It’s a horrible feeling. The time spent in the forest of Albania as a spirit was better than this, because when you’re here there’s nothing – no hope.”

Locket-Riddle shifted uncomfortably, stroking the golden locket on his chest.

The diary continued, “you brought hope for a short while, only to tell me I’ll probably be here for a long while before anything else happens. And there’s no way to end it. I just have to sit here and wait. Enjoy your time in the mortal world, Locket.”

Riddle watched as his older self walked away until he was the undistinguishable figure once more. One day he might understand, but being the first meant being alone and only he would ever know what that felt like.

Soon – or was it soon? – time began to pass as it once did, with no definite flow; no night to separate the days. Every now and then he would remember his time spent with the other horcrux and revel in the memory. Yet that’s what it was: just a memory now. The only reality left was his pain until he had another visitor.


End file.
